A Cold Night Begins
by Ardivian
Summary: Chapter 4 - A Shadow of His Former Self... is now up. Last Ch. Sorry it took so long. Been really busy. Enjoy. PraiseFlameYour choice.
1. A Cold Night Begins

*I hope you enjoy this. I somewhat think this chapter is good. Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.  
  
- I don't own the Resident Evil title or any of its characters. So far no RE chars.  
  
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Anthony glanced at the clock and noticed it was six o'clock and his parents had not returned from their evening walk. As he walked to the kitchen he glanced outside.  
  
"I wonder what's taking so long." His thought was interrupted when he saw what looked like his dog wondering around the backyard without his parents. He opened the sliding door and called her name.  
  
"Jasmine, come here!"  
  
As soon as Anthony called her name her head propped up and turned toward him.  
  
"What the fuck?" his voiced trailed off, "Her face?"  
  
Jasmine started to run toward the door. Anthony closed the door and ran off to his room. He could hear Jasmine trying to break through the glass door. Making it into his room, Anthony grabbed his sword of its stand and proceeded make his way back into the kitchen.  
  
At that moment the glass door shattered and Jasmine barreled into the hallway cutting him off from the kitchen. Without a second thought, he ran up to the dog and kicked her in the jaw. With a yelp, Jasmine fell onto her side. Anthony quickly removed the sword from the scabbard, raised it over his head and impaled her. Jasmine's life slowly trickled away.  
  
"I'm sorry, Jazz."  
  
Anthony pulled the sword from Jasmine's throat, blood poured out of the gaping wound in her neck. As he did this, he noticed a cold breeze coming from the shattered sliding door. The breeze cooled off Anthony's adrenaline warmed body. He then walked over to the phone and dialed his father's cell phone number. The phone finally started to ring, unfortunately it was ringing from somewhere in the house. Anthony turned around a saw where it was laying.  
  
"Great... Marc left it on the china hutch." Anthony shook his head. "Shit. I'd call Deb's cell, but she never has it on."  
  
Next, he dialed his friend's number to only hear the phone ring repeatedly, "Answer damnit." Anthony placed the phone back on the charger. "I wonder." He said as he grabbed his keys to the Liberty. He walked backed to his room, grabbed a bag and packed some clothes. On the way out, he also grabbed his laptop and headed to the Jeep.  
  
Anthony pressed the button on the keychain to open the back hatch. He placed his belongings in the cargo area and closed it. Hearing muffled noises he looked down the road and saw his parents walking about. He ran out from under the carport and signaled for them.  
  
"Come here, quick!"  
  
He noticed they were barely moving toward him, lumbering almost. He walked into the street slowly approaching them.  
  
"Hey, something terrible just happened at the house." His voice trailed off once he got a good look at his parents.  
  
He slowly backed away in horror. Anthony stumbled to the ground as he turned to run. Quickly getting up he ran back into the house to fetch his sword. He grabbed it off the kitchen counter and hopped in the Jeep. Just as he started it up, his dad pawed at the door trying to get in. Anthony opened the door as hard as he could, which sent his dad stumbling into the garage wall. He slammed it in reverse and sped off to his friend's house. 


	2. Seeking Help

As soon as Anthony got out of University Place it began to drizzle. Considering the short distance it took no time at all to arrive at his friends' house. He made a sharp turn into the drive-way and honked the horn. Anthony grabbed his sword, climbed out and left the Jeep running. He ran to the front door and banged on it. No answer. He ran around to the back yard to find the sliding glass door shattered.  
  
Anthony unsheathed his sword and walked slowly through what was left of the door. With each step he could feel the shards of glass crunch under his weight. His shoes squeaked slightly as he stepped onto the linoleum floor. He glanced in the kitchen and saw a blood streak leading into the living room. In the middle of the floor was his friends' mother laying in a pool of her own blood with an exit wound in the back of her head.  
  
"Dylan! Where the fuck are you?" Anthony shouted. He heard a door open in the hallway to his right.  
  
"Anthony?" he replied as he stepped out from behind the blanketed hallway door. Dylan was of a medium build  
  
"Yeah, it's me. What the hell is going on here?"  
  
"I don't know. I found my mom in the hallway eating on Nelson. Next thing I know, she turned her attention towards me. She looked dead almost."  
  
"What the fuck do you mean, almost?" Anthony questioned. "I don't think rotting flesh and a lumbering pace and what seems like a hunger for human flesh qualify as 'Alive'."  
  
"Fuck you. You knew what I meant."  
  
"So who or what made a mess in here?"  
  
"You mean other than my mother? A dog or what was left of one anyway."  
  
"Where is it?"  
  
"Well, my bed is soaking up the blood from the dogs head and the body is laying in three separate pieces on the floor."  
  
Anthony shook his head. "So I take it you're the one who put the bullet in her."  
  
"Yes." Dylan answered as he looked at her.  
  
"You have any more rounds for it?"  
  
"No, I wasted five on her, before I thought to shoot her in the head."  
  
Dylan looked out the front window. "You ready to roll? I see you left it running."  
  
"I'm ready if you are."  
  
"Yeah, let me get some things first."  
  
"Alright, but you'll have to hurry."  
  
Dylan nodded and hurried to his room. Anthony grabbed a cup out of the cupboard. He proceeded to fill it with water from the refrigerator. He filled it up half way and put the brim to his lips and tilted the glass. Before the water reached his lips he tilted it the opposite direction.  
  
"That may not be such a good idea."  
  
"What won't be a good idea?"  
  
Anthony turned around and lightly shook the glass of water in his hand as he placed it on the counter. Dylan laughed at the gesture.  
  
"Come on man. Let's go." He said as he threw his bag over his shoulder.  
  
Anthony opened the door. "Shit." He looked out the door. It began to rain harder that it was before he arrived at the house. Dylan stepped ahead of him under the garage. Anthony closed the door behind him. Anthony took a step forward and stopped.  
  
"Did you hear that?"  
  
Dylan stopped. "Hear what?"  
  
They listened carefully to their surroundings. There was a faint noise of a feet dragging in the wet grass. Dylan put his bag on the ground and drew his K-Bar. Anthony drew his sword. They walked out from under the garage. The rain was coming down at an angle. The rain poured out of their hair and into their faces.  
  
"Check it." Dylan said as he nodded in the sounds general direction.  
  
Anthony crept around the corner of the house. There was one of the undead hobbling toward them. Before Anthony had a chance to react, Dylan had already made his way to the zombie and slit its exposed jugular. The zombie let out a moan and fell to the ground. The blood spilled out on the concrete. Anthony stepped away as not to get any blood on his shoes.  
  
"Jesus, at least play with it." He joked.  
  
"What's the point? The quicker you deal with the faster we could be on our way." Dylan replied as he picked his bag up off the ground.  
  
"Good point."  
  
Dylan climbed into the Jeep and placed his bag at his feet. "So, how are your parents?"  
  
"Not good I assume. I came across them earlier when I left the house. I slammed Marc into a wall with the car door, but as far as I know they are." He paused for a brief second. "They are still alive?"  
  
"You didn't kill them?"  
  
"No, but Jasmine isn't around anymore."  
  
"What happened?" Dylan said as he noticed a sign that said Viola Street.  
  
"She broke through the glass door in the back, and attempted to attack me."  
  
Dylan nodded as if he understood. "Are we going to Clint's?"  
  
"Yeah, we'll swing by and see if he's still. around."  
  
Anthony pulled onto West Ash Street and into Clint's driveway. Clint's truck and his dad's work truck were parked in the driveway. Anthony killed the Jeep. They stepped out of the Jeep and made their way to the front door.  
  
"You ready?" Anthony asked as he placed this hand on the door knob.  
  
"As ready as I'll ever be."  
  
Anthony turned the door knob and walked in. 


	3. A Fallen Friend

*Reminder - I do not own the RE series/title or the characters. Thanks to those who read and reviewed. Also, I'm sorry for the many uploads of Ch.2 - Seeking Help. Format wasn't right after I'd posted it. Thanks.  
  
Anthony and Dylan proceeded into Clint's house. The dogs could be heard in the backyard kennel as they closed the door behind them. The kitchen area was shrouded in darkness. Anthony reached for the light switch and flipped it.  
  
"Madre de Dios!" Dylan yelled.  
  
Clint was sitting in a chair slumped over the bar. There was a little bit of blood that trickled down the barstools legs and onto the floor.  
  
"Mother of God, indeed." Anthony said as he walked over to Clint's corpse. "You think he's completely dead?"  
  
"I'm not sure." Dylan answered as he walked to the Clint's room. "I'm going to check back here for his rifles."  
  
Anthony followed Dylan into the room. All the guns that used to line the wall were gone all except for two. Dylan grabbed the one that was hanging on the pegs and Anthony grabbed the one that was on the floor. Anthony dropped it as soon as he picked it up. The one on the floor was covered in blood on the opposite side.  
  
"Hey go check his body for bullet wounds, Dylan."  
  
Dylan walked back into the kitchen. The floor boards squeaked underneath his feet. Dylan grabbed Clint by his hair and sat him up. There was something that looked like a entry wound from the shotgun Anthony picked up.  
  
"Yeah, he's been shot. Do you think he did it?"  
  
Anthony nodded. "It's very likely. Anything else is better than being one of those mindless creatures. Poor fool."  
  
Dylan walked back into the room. "Are there any rounds left in the shotty?"  
  
"Yes, just one though."  
  
As soon as he said that something sounded like it fell to the ground. Dylan peeked his head around the door way.  
  
"Shit! Clint is on the move." Dylan said as he put his K-Bar up and cocked the rifle.  
  
Anthony cocked the last shell into the chamber and walked out ahead of Dylan. As soon as he reached the bathroom Clint jumped out and attacked him. Dylan shot but only hit the door entrance to the spare bedroom. Anthony slightly lost his balance. He kicked Clint in the stomach, which sent him stumbling back into the hallway. He aimed the shotgun at Clint's rotting face and pulled the trigger. With a loud boom reverberating through the house, his head exploded giving the white walls a new paint job. Clint's body slammed up against the wall and slid down it leaving a blood streak. Anthony dropped the blood soaked shot gun and ran off into the bathroom.  
  
"What's wrong?" Dylan asked.  
  
"I'm cleaning my hands. I'm not sure if this blood is infectious or not. I don't want to take the chance."  
  
"That's understandable." Dylan voice faded away as he walked by. He raised his voice a little bit. "Are you going to take that shotgun?"  
  
Anthony answered as he walked out the bathroom. "Nah, it's empty. It's of no use to me now."  
  
Anthony looked around the living area for anything useful. His search was in vain.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
Anthony opened the door and proceeded back into the rainy evening. Dylan followed with his new rifle in hand.  
  
"Where are we heading to now, Chief?" Anthony asked.  
  
"We could either go into town or to the police station."  
  
Anthony started up the vehicle and backed out. When he hit the end of the driveway there was a thud that hit the back end of the Jeep. "What the hell was that?"  
  
Dylan looked at Anthony. "Probably another one of our walking dead pals."  
  
Anthony drove off looking into the review mirror. Dylan was right. Another zombie lay in the middle of the road. Anthony didn't even stop at the stop sign and made an immediate left back onto Viola Street. He then turned onto the Park Avenue and made his way towards town.  
  
"Too bad about Clint, huh?" Anthony asked.  
  
"Yeah, it's a shame really." Dylan replied.  
  
There was a moment of silence between them. The silence was broken when a living person ran out into the middle of the road. Anthony slammed on the brakes. Dylan hopped out into the frigid rain. The woman had been badly wounded. Her top was torn nearly exposing a breast. The white sweater she wore was soaked in blood. She was frantically speaking to Dylan. Anthony still inside the Jeep could not hear the conversation. She then began to walk away from Dylan and dropped to the ground. Dylan went to her aid. He checked her pulse looked up and Anthony and mouthed the word 'Dead'. Dylan climbed back in.  
  
"What was she screaming about?"  
  
"She was too frantic from bleeding to death. All I picked up was something about town, people. She didn't specify if they were dead or alive though." Dylan paused then looked at Anthony. "Should we check it out?"  
  
"Yeah, we should. Maybe we could get some answers out of someone about what the fuck is going on in this town."  
  
Anthony sped off down Park Avenue once again. He made a right on Jake Street. He passed in front of the local McDonalds. It was dead as it could ever be. Anthony stopped the Jeep at the corner of Jake and Laurel Avenue. Laurel Avenue ran right through the middle of town. It was really the only way out of town, but nothing could compare with what their eyes were set upon on this rainy evening.  
  
There was another moment of silence between the two, but not for their friend Clint. They both stepped out into the rain and gazed in amazement at what they were looking at in the streets. 


	4. A Shadow of His Former Self

*Again I do not own the Resident Evil series and whatnot. I've been busy. Sorry for the delay. Enjoy. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------  
  
The rain blew violently into Anthony's face as he stood outside gazing into the street. A few minutes went by until one of them spoke.  
  
"Can you believe this?" Dylan asked.  
  
Anthony stayed silent.  
  
"Guess not."  
  
Anthony turned around to look at Dylan. Just as he did so a turned car exploded twenty feet away from where they stood.  
  
"Holy shit." Anthony muttered.  
  
Anthony took a minute more to gather what was going on. For as far as the eye could see all that could be seen were lifeless bodies, overturned and wrecked cars. Another car burst into the flames. Shortly after, a flaming carcass was thrown from the car.  
  
"Dylan, be careful. They may not be 'dead'."  
  
Dylan nodded in acknowledgement. "Meet at the gas station down the road in about twenty minutes. I'll go search for survivors."  
  
"Alright, I'll see ya then."  
  
Dylan walked in the direction of the car that exploded. Anthony went in the opposite direction.  
  
Anthony glanced around at the carnage that now surrounded his once tranquil life.  
  
"What the hell." He said disappointingly.  
  
Another explosion went off and a sharp pain suddenly came from his neck. His hand immediately clinched his neck. He pulled his hand back into view. It was covered in blood. The now pouring rain caused the blood to run down his arm quicker than usual. He placed his hand over the piece of shrapnel that jutted out of his neck and slowly pulled it out.  
  
"Dylan!!" his voice faded as he coughed up blood.  
  
He fell to his knees slumped over and coughed up more blood. Anthony noticed the water puddle his hand was in slowly began to turn red. He looked into the puddle. His reflection slowly began to fade away just as his life was. Anthony's arms grew weak. His weight grew too great to support and he was lying belly down on the wet cement.  
  
Anthony could hear foot steps growing closer and closer. With his hand in the puddle he tried to roll himself over onto his back. His attempts were in vain. Anthony let out one last cough. A thin mist of blood pierced through the rain into the puddle ridding of the reflection. Anthony saw a figure standing in front of him then closed his eyes.  
  
"Anthony." Dylan said as his voice faded. 


End file.
